The Dark
by BlessedBullet
Summary: The mysterious activation of a distress beacon incites a marine squad's investigation of Starbase 012. First fic. Hope you enjoy.


Richard Lee

Starcraft - The Dark

It was dark.

As the T-14 Infantry Interstellar Transport Vessel (ITV for short) journeyed across deep space, Private John Miller of the Terran Confederacy stared out a window thoughtfully.  Space was beautiful.  It was a black canvas painted with brilliant nebulas and shining stars.  It wasn't too different from Miller's home world, Dylar IV - a planet in which 80% was covered in water.  The seas glistened like stars and seemed as endless as space.  But the sea had a dark side - it brought fatal dangers - storms, gigantic aquatic creatures...  Miller knew that space was no different from the sea.

"Aw, man…"

John shifted uncomfortably in his CMC - 300 Powered Combat Suit.  He had an itch.  When he was little, he saw a soldier in the city.  The soldier looked so proud and defiant in his glistening combat suit.  It covered the soldier's body with inch-thick ceramic compound plates to repel lethality in all its forms.  The suit of armor was topped with a helmet with the bright insignia of the Terran Confederacy.  Now here Miller was, inside one of the suits that he once longed to be in.  It was uncomfortable and noisy - with every move, the suit's hydraulics activated to allow movement within Miller's five hundred pound exoskeleton.  His mother told him to join the Navy - explore the depths of space aboard the massive (and safe) Confederate Battlecruisers.  But no, Miller just _had _be an infantry trooper - just like his nameless role model.  

"All right wormlings, at-_ten_-tion!"  Screamed Sergeant Nichols as he entered the deployment bay.

Miller stood without barely thought - it came second nature from his three years in this military.  The rest of the squad followed.  "Sir, yes sir!" they said in concert.  

"I just got a new message from Confederate Command. We were _supposed_ to go to planet Draconis V to waste some pansy rebels.  _However_, those _science-weenies_ at Starbase 012 have activated their distress beacon as of 0300 standard time," Nichols spat out a hunk of, what appeared to be standard issue meat rations. "And what a _damn_ fine coincidence.  The star base is right on the way to Draocnis.  Guess which lucky squad gets the _privilege_ to investigate."  The sergeant nodded along with the rest of his squad.  "ETA is two hours.  Full combat gear.  Now!" Miller was already getting nervous as he cuddled his Gauss Rifle involuntarily.

The 8mm C-14 "Impaler" Gauss Rifle was the standard issue weapon of the Terran Confederate Marine Core.  To Miller, his Gauss Rifle - which he named Betsy - was his best friend.  She saw a great deal combat with Miller and kept enemies away with her firepower.  The C-14 fired over twenty magnetically propelled armor-piercing spikes of tritanium per second.  Miller was only an average shot with his weapon, but with so many spikes firing off, he didn't need to be accurate.  Miller happily began to clean and reassemble his weapon with gusto.

"How you doin' bro?"  New recruit Private Darien said to Miller after a friendly nudge.  "Worried 'bout getting some action?" 

"Uh, no way, man."  John nervously, "I didn't join the army to _not _see action_._"

"Right.  I can't wait to get into some combat, ya' know?  After six months of boot camp, I think I'm ready." Darien got a thought.  "Hey man, you've been in combat before haven't you?  What's it like to kill someone?"

It was as if John instantaneously changed into a different person.  He was no longer happily cleaning Betsy, but he had a hard, solemn look to his face that cloud only been tempered by the heat of battle.  He stared deep into the eyes and soul of Darien.

"To see a man die is the worst thing you'll ever experience."  

And as fast as the firing rate of his gun, Miller shot back to normal like it never happed.  He slapped a fresh box of ammunition into Betsy.  And continued

"But you'll get used to it, Private.  Before you know it, you'll be doing it like zipping up your pants." Miller said, trying to use the casual tone in his voice to hide his lying.  Darien left him alone after that.

Miller used to be as gun-ho as Darien.  That was before he had to watch a friend get blown into bits by the artillery shell of a Siege Cannon.  Weeks after it happened, Miller swore he could taste explosives and blood in his mouth.  After his friend's fate, Miller decided it was time for a career change.   Ever since, he'd been surviving, one battle after another, until his enlistment term would finally be up.

As they journeyed to the starbase, the hours passed quickly for many of the new recruits but it seemed like days to Miller.  He was getting scared although the little reasonable voice in the back of his head told him otherwise.  The incident at Starbase 012 could have been anything.  A false alarm, a power outage...  _Or maybe an attack_, thought Miller grimly.    

 Finally, the ITV shuddered as it slowed down to approach Starbase 012 and John looked out the window.  The base looked like a giant wheel floating in space.  Four axels held the wheel steady while it rotated slowly to create artificial gravity using centrifugal force.  It wasn't the biggest base he'd seen.  About three miles in diameter and was made of an alloy that withstood the radiation, space debris, and other hazards of space.  It looked normal, except...  Miller wondered to himself.  _Lights are out.  What could that mean…?_

The ITV shivered and shook while it entered the artificial gravity of the starbase's hanger bay.  A moment later, the deployment doors came down and the five-man squad, accompanied by Sergeant Nichols immediately sprinted out to secure the area.   

It was dark.  

"How did I get into a mess like this?" muttered Miller under his breath.

Miller and the rest of his squad immediately switched on their shoulder-mounted spotlights to drown the darkness - but what they revealed was chaos.  Miller cradled Betsy for comfort.  

The bay was in complete disarray.  Metal crates of supplies lay broken and battered across the bay   Parts of the floor had huge gashes and holes.  The Starbase's own space vessels, also in the bay, weren't space vessels anymore. Now, they were heaps of shredded metal.  

Shredded_ metal?_ Miller thought to himself.

The sergeant signaled to spread out and search and John did so.  He slowly explored around one of the broken vessels until he came across a dead, human body.  He nearly dropped his weapon.

"Holy _crap_…  Ser-Sergeant!!" he screamed into the radio within his helmet.  "Sergeant Nichols, come quick!"

Nichols, and the rest of the squad, gathered around Miller and the body he found.

"What the fuck happened to him!?" said one of the privates as he gawked at the corpse.  It laid face flat on the cold metallic floor in a pool of blood and innards.  The man - at least it looked like a man - was pierced repeatedly with what could have been tritanium spikes.  Sergeant Nichols rolled the body over onto its back with his foot to reveal that the man's face was missing… And in this case, it was taken violently. 

"Oh man," Private Darien stared at the corpse as the words of Miller started to haunt him.  "Who'd do such a - I mean, Dayammmm.  Look at that!  The dude's face is _gone_."

"Whoa, they didn't tell us about this in boot camp, yo!" said a different private.

"Yeah," Nichols said as he nodded in agreement.  He'd seen worse.  "Private, they let you learn the hard stuff the hard way.  And it looks like we have hostiles.  All right, lock, cock, and get ready to rock.  They could still anywhere."  A quick chorus of C-14s being put off their safeties rang out among the squad.  "Let's move"

While the squad started to walk out of the docking bay, Miller knelt down to investigate the body.  The man's "face" was nothing but shattered bone and brain matter and blood running down it.  Maybe someone shot the poor bastard and knifed his face off as a trophy.  John searched the body quickly for any further clue of what had happened to him.  All he found was a necklace with the cross of Jesus - the cross was broken.

Miller quickly caught up to his squad as they started to enter the base's main corridor.

It was dark.

The metallic corridor softly reflected the light of the squad's shoulder mounted spotlights.  It was quiet too - all except for the armored boots and hydraulics from the squad's armor.  In a way, it seemed serene.  John Miller still couldn't relax.  After about thirty yards of marching, he and the squad stopped at an eight-inch thick tritanium door with a small window.  A squad member grunted.

Starbase 012 was built along the standard Confederate layout.  The layout included doors which dotted the main corridor.  These doors were controlled by an emergency computer and would automatically seal doors in cases of distress - containing hull breaches, isolating explosions or fires, and (what appeared to be the case) to immobilizing intruders. 

Nichols moved up to the door's window to take a peek at the other side.  But he couldn't see through - the window was opaque with blood.

"Someone has anger management issues." said Darien as he and the other privates stepped back.

Nichols inspected the door calmly.  "Great.  Just eff-en great."

Miller's didn't like what was going on.  This was worse than direct combat - at least then, he _knew_ what to expect.  Not this, though.  Someone wanted to play mind games and he didn't feel like playing.  John wanted out - and he could see that the majority of the squad wanted out as well.  So he did something that he considered less fear provoking than investigating what happened on Starbase 012.

"Uh, S-Sarge," said Miller uncertainly.  "M-maybe we should book it.  I mean, this is crazy."  Nichols turned around and glared at Miller in speechless rage.  Miller knew what he was thinking but continued fearfully.  "We could just leave.  And we could just say the Rebels did it."  

Darien backed Miller up.  Not out of friendship, but out of fear as well.  "Yeah Sarge, let's get out of here.  I didn't sign up for this bull shit."  The squad was nodding in agreement.  

Nichols flushed red.  He couldn't believe it.  _His_ squad was nothing but a bunch of pussies!  They were scared of a little blood and cold meat.  How did they ever get into _his_ military.  Maybe he could shoot one of them as an example… _And could just say the Rebels did it_, he thought as he mimicked Miller's whiney voice in his head.  But no, that wouldn't do.  Nichols knew better than to get hot headed.  

With the exception of Miller, they were all fresh out of boot camp.  All of them were supposedly prepared for direct combat - but not for the smell of blood and the sensation of fear.  Nichols thought about it… If the intruders - no, they had to be Rebels - if the Rebels were here, his group of  "men" would get themselves killed - along with their caring and loving sergeant.  Nichols had failed missions before but he never refused doing them.  Well, there was a first thing for everything.

At first, John thought the sergeant was going to beat the life out of him.  But Nichol's face turned from anger to calmness.

Nichols nodded reluctantly.  "Miller, you're right.  This crap isn't worth it."  He turned his back to the door.  "We'll set a few explosives, blow up the base, and say the Rebels did it."  Nichols bit his lip.  He'd have to get a new squad at this.  "Lets move."  

Miller was stunned.  He actually listened to him!  He'd be getting away from this obvious death trap.  He'd get to hide away in a big, fortified, base at Draconis and Miller would get to waste away in bunker with Betsy.  He grinned to himself proudly - making sure that the sergeant wasn't looking before he did so.  _Having a little balls doesn't hurt, huh?_ Said a little voice in the back of John's head

He responded to himself under his breath.  "It sure doesn't".

As he the squad started to head back to the docking bay, the bloodied door made low wail while it slowly opened.  Miller instinctively turned around.  

Behind the door, some..._thing… _no, _things_ were waiting.  Two of them.  As Miller gawked at one of them fearfully, he dropped his gun to the floor.  It was huge and snakelike and towered him and anyone else in the squad.   Its' hideous flattened head had a drooling mouth full of chalk white teeth.   The head dropped - almost in slow motion - to reveal sizeable, bony, spines along its back. Its' hands - if you could call them hands - were like sickles which protruded from its brown, thick hide.  For a moment, Miller and the creature's eyes met.  But only for a moment.

In an instant, the creature dove into the squad with the other not far behind it.  One of them went right for Private Darien.  Before he could take aim with his C-14, he already found a diamond-hard sickle impaling him through his armor and into his stomach.  The creature finished him off with another slash through the neck - Darien tried to scream but a sick, blood thick gargling arose from his voice instead.  The other creature knocked two squad members at once down with its tail, thus rendering them both unconscious.  In a blur, the creature dived its head toward one of the downed privates, through the high-resistant carbon glass helmet visor, and took of his face with its teeth. 

Nichols, with his military training snapping instantly into his head, aimed his Gauss Rifle point blank at one of the attacking creatures and let loose burst of tritanium spikes.  The creature let out a shriek that was nearly deafening in the small, metallic corridor.  The metal projectiles ripped the torso of the creature as easily as paper.  However, the spikes performed too well.  Tritanium passed right through the creature and into the Sergeant's unconscious comrade lying on the ground.  Although the armor managed to absorb some of the spikes, it couldn't take them all.  Both the alien and the private coiled in a violent death.  Nichols didn't have time to think about what he'd done until the other creature bit down on his C-14, rendering it useless.

All this time, Miller just stood there dumbfounded - he didn't even have his gun to clasp.  Everything was happening so fast for him.  He couldn't figure out what was going on.  He couldn't figure out what to do.  He couldn't figure out _anything_.  John watched helplessly as Sergeant Nichols got tackled in blur of brown and red.  As Nichols hopelessly tried to fight the creature off, he turned his head thus looking at John - _pleadin_g at John - for help… But Miller just stood there.  Frozen with fear as he watched his sergeant get slaughtered.

The creature, on top of Nichols, began to tear him blazingly fast but with a surgeon's precision.  It slashed and stabbed rapidly and systematically with its hand-sickles.  After twenty seconds, the creature tired of Nichol's screaming.  Finally, it drove its head at Nichols' and took off part of his full helmet, along with the front half of his head.  

Then it was just Miller and The Creature.  It turned his head around and opened its mouth - pieces of Sergeant Nichols dripping out - as if to intimidate Miller even further.  It knew the last one standing would be easy prey.  It would play with its food before feasting.  The Creature coiled its snakelike body and dove.

John saw it.  The Creature pulling back and leaping forth.  It happened as if it was in slow motion.  The basic instinct of every living organism popped into John's head like an epiphany - survive.  Miller twisted his body away and The Creature went right past him, taking off his spotlight instead of the entire arm.  

It was dark.

But Private John Miller of the Terran Confederate Marine Core knew what to do.  All his feelings, emotions, and instincts pooled into one word - Betsy.

This time, it was Miller who dove - not at the creature, but for his weapon which he dropped earlier.  As he wrapped his hands around his C-14, The Creature jumped on him and drove both its sickle hands deep into John's back.  John screamed.  The shattering of his armor rang in his ears but he could still hear his goal.  He threw It off his back with the force of the suit and his rapidly weakening body.  The creature squirmed to get up and quickly dove back at Miller - its jaws aimed right at the head.  Miller, just as fast,  rolled onto his back - Betsy firmly in his hands - and pulled the trigger.

The creature was instantly propelled back against the wall as if hit by the force of an explosion.  Betsy kept spewing spikes of death while dozens upon dozens of projectiles tore the creature into shreds.  Miller knew a few seconds worth was more than enough but continued to hold the trigger down.  The sound of his rifle and the death screams of The Creature slowly became distant.  Miller could see nothing but the blinding muzzle flash from his C-14 Gauss Rifle.  

It was bright.

Then it was dark.


End file.
